


Clint Has A Nightmare and Peter Has A Daddy

by kianisabitch



Series: Lonely Dad Clint, Age Regressing Peter and Helicopter Parent Tony [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Peter Parker, Age Regression/De-Aging, Bed-Wetting, Childhood Trauma, Clint Barton Feels, Coping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Peter Parker, Daddy Clint, Diapers, Fluff, Hurt Clint Barton, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Little Peter, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Parent Clint Barton, Peter Parker is a Good Boy, Precious Peter Parker, Sharing a Bed, Stuffed Toys, Thumb-sucking, peter is dry for once and clint is very proud, pull-ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:25:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kianisabitch/pseuds/kianisabitch
Summary: Feeling only the dry padding Clint was genuinely surprised and his heart swelled with pride. It was a really big deal that Peter was dry and he wanted to praise the boy both because he was genuinely proud of the boy for staying dry and also because he wanted to get the attention off himself and the tears rolling down his cheeks.  “Good boy! You’re dry for the first time this week, sweetheart!”It was easier to focus on Peter’s need than to process his nightmare and the fear manifesting in his body. In addition, he loved the way Peter’s face blushed bright red at the compliment and he wrapped one arm around him, giving the boy a half hug before maneuvering them to be sitting up.ORClint has a nightmare about his abusive father and reflects on why spanking Peter may be doing more harm than good.





	Clint Has A Nightmare and Peter Has A Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest reading the first few stories for context, but in particular 'Peter is A Cranky Little Boy' if you want context for the reflection on spanking.

When Clint wakes up he feels like he is being pulled from a chokehold or like someone is saving him from drowning or like he finally hit the ground after falling for hours.Tears are spilling down his cheeks and he can still hear his father’s phantoms screams and feel the thud of his belt on his young skin from in his dream. It burns and he wants to run away and scream and hide and he is terrified that his father is going to chase after him again and pin him down and hit him with the belt. 

 

He is terrified that this man is going to come out of nowhere and hurt him. That his brother Barney is going to materialize out of thin air and be forced to watch and oh god he doesn’t have this in him. He hasn’t seen his father in years and now he is shaking like an autumn leave over one bad dream where his father was more monster than parent. 

 

His entire body is shaking now and he wants to dive under the bed and hide. But he forces himself to focus only on his breathing and a weight that feels warm and heavy on his chest. He is confused at first, but the weight feels good so he lets it be until he finally slots open his eyes in order to see what it is. 

 

Peter is laying on top of him. His limbs are wrapped around the man like a baby koala that is determined never to let go. There is a small pile of drool on Clint’s chest from where spit had leaked out of the gaps between Peter’s thumb and the corners of his mouth and the boy’s fuzzy stuffed crocodile is squished between their two chests. The crocodile was a present from Clint earlier in that same week from when the boy had stayed strong through a particularly rough day mental health wise. Peter had insisted on sleeping with the stuffed animal every day since he had gotten it, always cuddling it close at bedtime or during a nap when he was being cranky and desperately needed sleep. At this point if you saw the boy without the stuffed animal in his arms, it was a strange moment. In those moments the stuffie was probably being washed after Peter had accidentally gotten jam or syrup or marker all over it or it was bath time and Clint had miraculously gotten the boy to unhand the toy while he was being washed.

 

The boy’s head was raised several inches from his chest and he blinked blearily at Clint, taking in the messy hair and the tears silently rolling down his cheeks and the way the older man was shaking horribly. The boy looked concerned, like he wanted to comfort the man or ask what was wrong. 

 

Clint ignored it however, instead opting to seemingly automatically slip his fingers into the elastic band around the left leg of the boy’s pull-up. Peter was pretty much always wet after waking up. Clint often wondered how Peter had gone this long without protection at night. Thinking about this poor kid waking up wet and having to wash his sheets by himself almost nightly made Clint’s heart ache. 

 

Peter was adorable and sweet and kind and everything that made him happy in this world but he was also an age regresser who had the brain of a toddler and who couldn’t and shouldn't have to handle things like wet beds all by himself. Peter should be worrying about things like whether he wanted dino nuggets or mac and cheese for lunch, what movie he wanted to watch or whether he wanted blue or green playdoh. He shouldn’t have to deal with changing his wet sheets or pull-ups for that matter. No, that was Clint’s job. 

 

Feeling only the dry padding Clint was genuinely surprised and his heart swelled with pride. It was a really big deal that Peter was dry and he wanted to praise the boy both because he was genuinely proud of the boy for staying dry and also because he wanted to get the attention off himself and the tears rolling down his cheeks.  “Good boy! You’re dry for the first time this week, sweetheart!” 

 

It was easier to focus on Peter’s need than to process his nightmare and the fear manifesting in his body. In addition, he loved the way Peter’s face blushed bright red at the compliment and he wrapped one arm around him, giving the boy a half hug before maneuvering them to be sitting up. 

 

The stuffed crocodile fell with a plop onto the comforter and Peter gave him the most adorable confused look at the sound, as if he couldn't understand why the stuffed animal fell or like he felt personally betrayed by his stuffed animal. His face was still bright red and a string of drool connected from his wet lips to the thumb that was lazily perched half in his mouth. 

 

The boy was wearing a considerably too large t-shirt, one of Clint’s SHIELD shirts that says ‘Barton’ in bold lettering on the back next to a cute little picture of a bow and arrow (a gag gift from Coulson last year), and the man feels a wave of protectiveness surge through him. The kid looks so small and cute and innocent and he would do just about anything in the world to protect him from harm… or nasty wet sheets. 

 

“Are you ok, da-” Peter stops before he can finish what Clint is strangely sure will turn into the word ‘daddy’, but regardless of the boy stopping his heart swells at even the one syllable of the word being spoken allowed. If he wasn’t feeling so frantic from the rush of post nightmare adrenaline, he would probably push Peter on the topic. He would ask if Peter wanted to call him daddy and probably dig a little further and see if there were any deep psychological issues connected to that want. But he is still feeling frantic and he instead rushes to speak so Peter doesn’t have to feel embarrassed or pressured to unpack what he almost just said. 

 

“I just had a nightmare sweetie and it really scared me, but you don’t need to worry your cute little head about it. This is a big person issue and I don’t want you to stress about it” 

 

Clint booped Peter’s nose, expecting it to be the end of the conversation. But Peter still looks uncomfortable and the boy continued pushing.

 

“You… you don’t seem to be doing so well, did I do something wrong or was the nightmare really really realllllly scary?” Peter tentatively asked, his lip wobbling and his eyes starting to look bigger and teary, as if the wrong answer will cause him to cry. The boy ran his hand over the stuffed crocodile’s fur, methodically petting the fuzziness, and he ducked his head down to stare at the bed apprehensively. 

 

Clint wants to wrap the boy up in a hug or a blanket burrito and never let him go. He look sos innocent and young and like one wrong word or action will send him spiraling. He wants to insist that Peter is golden and perfect and amazing that he doesn’t have anything to worry about Clint’s stupid nightmares about his abusive father and fucked up childhood and that he loves him and it’s all alright. 

 

But when he actually thinks about it he can’t help but think that maybe Peter is wrapped up in his nightmare. Maybe spanking the boy makes him feel too much like his father, like a good for nothing fucking child abuser, because even though he only did it once the sight of Peter’s tears after being spanked is still engraved in the back of his eyelids. All he can think about his father hurting him and even though he had not been meaning to hurt Peter, his sense of punishment was so badly distorted from growing up with an abusive father. He knew punishment only through pain and even though spanking was still a valid form of punishment in a select group of people’s eyes, as a survivor of child abuse he didn’t see it as much better than abuse. It was still hurting a child after all. 

 

“I can’t believe I hurt you kid… I can’t hurt you, I’m supposed to take care of you and I hurt you and it was bad, it was so bad. And I feel like I’m turning into him.”

 

Peter’s face contorts in confusion at the man’s words and he sucks harder on his thumb in confusion. 

 

Clint takes the thumb sucking as a cue that Peter does not want to speak so he quickly continued talking. “The whole spanking you thing was seriously not ok and I can’t stop thinking about how I shouldn’t have spanked you because spankings hurt and I’m not trying to hurt you, kid. I love you so much and I guess I’m all messed up because I thought it was an ok way to punish you, when it really wasn’t at all.”

 

With those words Peter pulled his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop and he looked almost relieved, probably glad that the man wasn’t mad at him. When he speaks his voice is small and soft, yet he sounds insightful and ready to console the man in a way that no biological toddler actually could.

 

“I really didn’t like the spanking and well I don’t think it’s ok to spank kids or anything, because hitting kids is bad, but I also don’t blame you or hate you for it happening. I know that you weren’t doing it to be mean… you were doing it because you care and you don’t have a better way of showing it right now. It’s almost like your wires are all crossed and messed up, because someone so clearly hurt you too when you were little. And as someone who was also hurt as a kid, I get that it’s hard to change these things, You can’t just wake up and feel better or automatically know that the actions you were taught as a kid are actually really bad and should not be passed on to your kids… or well whatever I am to you.”

 

Clitn scrubs under his eyes with his fist, trying to rid the tears but instead making the skin all red and blotchy. “I guess you’re right when you say my wires are crossed.” He said softly, before reaching out to hold Peter’s hand in his own. “And I also guess I forgot that not only was I hurt, but I know you were hurt in your life too and the two of us have to stick together. We’re going to make it and we’re going to be ok in the end, but we have to work on communicating better. I won’t dare spank you again, because I now understand that it’s not ok and it hurts you and I care too much about you to make the same mistake again.”

 

Peter picked up his stuffed animal, rubbing it over his face and snuggling it close before he starts talking. “I would appreciate that a lot and if we’re having a serious conversation now and I’m not feeling too little or anything, I guess I was wondering if it’s ok if I maybe… well… if I call you daddy…?”

 

Peter’s ears turned bright red when he asked and he looked like he wanted to stop existing out of sheer embarrassment. But Clint doesn’t have time for Peter to be embarrassed about something like calling the man that takes care of him like a father something that makes him feel comfortable and safe and loved. 

 

“Of course you can sweetheart, I would love to be your daddy… and while we’re talking about it, I also want you to know that I definitely consider you to be one of my kids.”

 

And now Peter is smiling all toothy and adorable around his thumb and Clint is hugging him close to his body, terrified that if he lets go Peter may disappear. Clint ran his hand down Peter;s back and over his pull-up over and over again, smiling and the crinkling and damn proud of his kid for being dry when he woke up and making his needs known and for being adorable in general.

 

Kissing the top of his kid’s head, Clint whispered into Peter’s ear. “We’re gonna make it kid, I swear we’re gonna make it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Plot development is a thing and Tony is officially happening next story, so all around this series is doing great!!
> 
> Leave some comments, they make me happy!!


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